


Without you I'm an (Exile)

by PeonyWheeler3



Series: FREE song-inspired fics right here... Get yours now! [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Din's hurting ok, Emotional Hurt, F/M, For the purposes of this story the Great Purge happened in 0 ABY, Past Romance, Pre-Canon, Still Can't Tag, also I'm addicted to OCs, also posted on Tumblr, someone give that man a hug, song-inspired fic, why did I do this to him, young(er) Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeonyWheeler3/pseuds/PeonyWheeler3
Summary: Two years before he accepts the bounty for a small green child, a job reminds Din of someone in his past... and what could have been.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/FOC, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: FREE song-inspired fics right here... Get yours now! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969930
Kudos: 3





	Without you I'm an (Exile)

_\- The 7th year after the Battle of Yavin -_

The control panel beeped a warning. Din studied the navicomputer for a moment, double-checking his coordinates, and pulled the hyperdrive lever. The ship lurched and the stars outside stretched out into white streaks before morphing into the familiar blue tunnel of hyperspace. The noise of the _Crest_ ’s engines faded away, leaving the eerie stillness that always followed the jump to lightspeed. Din leaned back in his chair with a sigh. He had retrieved his bounty from the moon, thrown them in carbonite and taken off again in record time. The sooner he got away from that place the better. There were still too many memories lurking there in the shadows of the cliffs; memories that stung like salt in a cut. A hand on his arm, whispered words, black locks and bottomless grey eyes…

_******** _

_\- 1 ABY, six standard years previously..._

Din trudged up the path in the greying light. It was getting even colder as the weak sun sank below the horizon. He shivered and adjusted the rifle strap on his shoulders. He was wearing the warmest underlayers he owned and even after having them on all day, he still felt stiff and slow from the extra bulk. 

Din cursed quietly to himself as his ankle turned on yet _another_ loose stone. This moon was nothing more than a blasted heap of stones squashed together by gravity and luck. The surface was riddled with loose pebbles and rocks (not to mention sudden fissures and sinkholes), making walking anything like a long distance both difficult and uncomfortable. Especially when you were dragging a large dead creature behind you. Din sighed. The others would be glad for the fresh meat. Well all but Devist since Ithorians don’t believe in hunting. Din curled his lip in disgust. Considering their situation, the group was lucky to have anything to eat at all. Their last, dried out ration bars were almost gone and Sev had yet to find them any new work. Din sighed again. Sev was not the best kind of person to be trapped with for an extended period in a cramped dwelling. He was arrogant and insufferable, not to mention headstrong. And he was stupid. Devist was a quiet mouselike person who did what Sev said and kept his mouths shut. Arvi, a Twi’lek, was the opposite: annoyingly enthusiastic about everything _all the time_. While he could fight tolerably, he was definitely not the brightest tail-head ever born. Then, there was Ithis. Din felt yet another sigh pass his lips.

Ithis was… special. Of all of them, she had welcomed Din, _really_ welcomed him, not just as another paycheck but as a _person_. When he had first joined the group six standard months ago, dirty, ragged, desperate, haunted with nightmares and loss, she had instantly drawn his eyes. Jet-black hair, usually braided into a long, intricate rope set off her sharply pointed features. To the outside observer she looked delicate, fragile even. Din had learned just how wrong that assumption was on their first mission. She was small but terrifying. Her weapon of choice was a staff with retractable knife-points on either end, but she could fight using literally any weapon and, when it came to it, her own body. And her eyes...they were endless wells that a careless man could fall into and drown. Yet underneath it all there was a warmth to her, a subtle humor and sharp wit that he found captivating.

Din had found himself drawing closer to her the longer he stayed. It started with bonding over their mutual annoyance at everyone else which turned into friendship and then became something else; something deeper that neither of them seemed to be able to understand, let alone talk about. 

Then one night Sav just got a little too much. He had been boasting for nearly half an hour about the time he fought off an attacking herd of Bormu which was completely and utterly preposterous and therefore extremely annoying. Din had seen Bormus (and what they were capable of) before. If Sav had been “surrounded and trampled” as he claimed he had been before heroically getting up and shooting out all the beasts’ eyes, he would not be alive to tell the tale. Bormus were _heavy_ and, if they wanted, could crush a city flat, let alone a man. Din shifted forward to say as much when a small hand slipped her hand into his. He looked down in surprise and found Ithis looking up. She smiled shyly and then leaned against him. Din felt something stir deep inside him and almost instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Ithis settled closer against him with a contented sigh and was soon asleep to the deep disappointment of Sav, whose story was mostly for her benefit. 

And that was the first of many times that Din found her hand in his, even when Sav _wasn’t_ being insufferable. Din began to rest his arm around her slim shoulders when they weren’t sitting half-hidden in a dark corner and their conversations suddenly became more personal.

Ithis told him about her childhood on Naboo, living in absolute poverty. Orphaned at the age of twelve, she had been indentured to a local tradesman to pay off her dead parents’ multitude of debts, but she fled his clutches and joined a group of bounty hunters who taught her to fight. Din could not help but admire her tenacity and spirit, though he could never bring himself to talk about his own past. The pain was still so close and it ate at his insides like a parasite. Only Ithis’s soothing presence, her hand on his arm or shoulder, her arms around his waist, could lessen that pain.

Then, the night before, she had asked about his name. He wanted to tell her, _truly_ he did, but Lardo’s words still burned into his mind, as fresh as when he saw his _ori’vod_ leave on the mission they all knew would be his last. 

“Remember, Din,” he had said laying his enormous hand on the younger man’s shoulder, “our secrecy is our survival. Our everything, especially our identities, _must_ remain a mystery from everyone, friend and enemy alike.”

Din had promised and he would not break his word. But once again, the pain was still too close to verbalize it. He had simply told Ithis that he couldn’t and when she had uncharacteristically pressed further, he had snapped at her to leave him be. She simply scowled, crossed her arms, and went out. Din volunteered for hunting duty in the morning and spent the whole day looking for anything resembling _edible_. 

Now, as he entered the narrow canyon leading to the group’s one tiny shack, dragging his kill behind him, Din couldn’t help the coil of unease winding itself in his belly. Would Ithis still be mad at him? His past, his wounds were not his fault. He had never been good with words, but she understood him, was the _only_ person who understood.

Din turned the final corner in the path... and stopped dead at the scene before him, dropping the results of his hunting in an unceremonious heap. In the pool of light made by the shack’s outdoor lamp, Ithis was being held captive in Sav’s strong arms, her feet dangling above the ground. Din started forward, hand reaching for his blaster, then abruptly stopped again as Ithis reached up and kissed Sav, cupping his face in her hands.

Din stood stunned, feeling his heart splinter into tiny pieces that cut like shattered glass. His hands curled into fist, anger and betrayal proving stronger than shock.

“ _What is going on?_ ” his voice snapped across the intervening space which he closed rapidly until he was standing a few feet away from the other two bounty hunters. 

Both Sav and Ithis had started at the sound of Din’s voice, but remained close to each other, Ithis fitting far too well into the curve of Sav’s arm. She smiled, but it was cold and humorless. 

“I was just kissing this fine specimen of bounty hunter, are you blind _Mando_?” she spat out his alias like poison.

“Oh, so what am I, his...his _understudy_?” Din’s voice was strained, his hand fidgeting with his blaster.

Sav snarled. 

“Understudy? No, bucket boy, you are not even in the cast.”  
Ithis gave a huff of laughter and Din chest ached.

_That wasn’t even funny._

“Ithis, how…?” the words became half whispered as they caught in his throat. “Is it all a lie, then? Everything we mean to each other?”

“What have I ever meant to you?” Ithis cried, suddenly passionate. She pushed away Sav’s arm and moved to stand in front of Din, her slight form seething.

“From the moment you slunk into our group I helped you. _I_ talked to you when nobody else could stand you and your stupid pride, _I_ patched you up when you were reckless and got hurt, _I_ told you about myself and let you see my vulnerable side and _what_ do I get in return? Absolutely nothing! You don’t tell me what your life was like, you don’t let me help you with your nightmares, you won’t even tell me your _name_ let alone remove your helmet! I’m sorry if I can’t be content with a faceless enigma who won’t even talk to me!”

There were tears in her eyes and Din felt his heart break all over again. So this was how she really felt about him. So much for everything _he_ had ever felt, ever hoped for.

“Don’t you make it all my fault!” he snapped, his voice rising. “ _I_ am _not_ the one who was just making out with a stupid, _ori'jagyc_ _di’kut_ behind someone’s back!”

“Well how should _I_ know if you were and why should I _care_?” Ithis shouted. “What’s the most you’ve ever done for me? Scraped your knuckles? I gave you so many chances, Mando, so many signs, so many warnings! How blind are you? Or are you just stupid?” 

“Less blind than you,” he flung back. “If you really hate me so much, why didn’t you just tell me instead of stringing me along? It would be easier to take!”

“Why should I waste any more effort? I’ve seen people like you before, so caught up in themselves that you can’t see anything or anyone else and didn’t like it the first time!”

“Then it’s too bad you’ve got one of those right behind you!” he jabbed a finger at Sav. “You want to see someone who sees no one but himself then turn around!” 

Din shouldered past them and threw open the door of the shack. He stormed in, ignoring Arvi and Devist’s nervous glances, snatched up his bed roll, kitbag, and weapons, then ducked back through the doorway, brushing past Sev and Ithis.

“Just _where_ do you think you are going so fast?” Sav snarled after him.

Din turned back to face him. 

“Off this rock and away from you worthless _aruetiise_.”

Sav let his heavy arm fall across Ithis’s shoulders. 

“Well, _finally_ he gets the message!”

“ _Kote lo'shebs'ul narit, di'kutla nibral_!” Din hissed. 

He gave one last look at the face that had bewitched him, at the endless grey eyes which now only served to add insult to injury. Then he turned and left the little valley, heading for where the _Crest_ was parked on the other side of the canyon. He didn’t look back.

_******** _

_\- 7 ABY -_

The control panel beeped a warning. Din reached forward and adjusted a few switches with unnecessary force. He rested his hand on his thigh, clenching and unclenching his fist as he dragged himself fully back into the present. He tried to be disgusted by his trembling hands and the way his breath rasped in his own ears, but it was simply too much, even after all this time. He tore off his gloves and threw them against the control panel then fumbled with the latch of his helmet. It released with a light hiss and he wrenched it off his head, dropping it to the deck with a loud _clang._ Din let his head slump into his hands the moment they were free of the helmet. He felt the cool air of the _Crest’s_ conditioning system bathing his uncovered face, seeing the blue shimmer of hyperspace even with his eyes closed. He shuddered in a breath, raising his head. The memories of that night still haunted him in his nightmares, stealing away his purpose, his dogged will to keep on going. How could he when it felt like he had left his soul behind on that forsaken moon? 

Din felt a sob bubble up in his chest, escaping despite his best attempts to stop it. He curled in on himself, letting his hand slide across his eyes. His free hand clenched into a fist, stretching the tendons until they ached.

“Oh _ner kar’tika_ , why did you do it? How could you _do_ it?”

The whispered plea hung in the air: unanswered, desperate. The ship traveled on through hyperspace, soundless but for the soft hum of the _Crest_ and the muffled sobs of the man in the cockpit. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration: "Exile" by Taylor Swift  
> Feel free to follow me on Tumblr @awheeler27 
> 
> Mando'a Translation (I used the dictionary from mandoa.org):  
> \- Ori'vod - older brother/ special friend  
> \- Ori'jagyc di’kut - bigmouthed idiot  
> \- Aruetiise - traitors   
> \- Kote lo'shebs'ul narit, di'kutla nibral. - You can keep your glory, worthless loser.  
> \- Ner kar’tika - my little heart


End file.
